


You Swallow My Heart And Flee

by wibblyR



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Cannibalism, D/s undertones, Kagune Sex, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Power Bottom Kaneki, Scent Kink, Unhealthy Relationship......, Unsafe Sex, Vore, just so we're clear. ken eats parts of tsukiyama. alright. thats the shtick., pain play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 00:38:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5562070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wibblyR/pseuds/wibblyR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ken is hungry. Tsukiyama usually helps him get his food, is devoted to him, and is alone with him when they practice fighting. The decision is obvious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Swallow My Heart And Flee

**Author's Note:**

> this is Vile and i blame Désirée  
> tbh i consider this to be canon divergence, i got the idea before starting :re and after.... an all-nighter catching up on 57 chapters.... i thought everything was too much a mess (especially kaneki-wise) to realistically start any Thing between them at any point in the timeline.... but i was dedicated to Sin so yeah this is a pocket AU  
> ive returned to good ol' Siken for the title

Ken had become used to the hunger staring at him through Tsukiyama’s eyes. So used, in fact, that it took him several months to notice the layers in that hunger.

What was key in that discovery was actually a “who”. Ken had seen Tsukiyama inching ever closer to Hinami over time; had confronted him about it as soon as he could, during a sparring session. Tsukiyama had put his hand to his heart and sworn of good intent, of wishes to integrate himself into the group. And Ken had readily and silently dismissed those lies.

But now, as he watches from the corner of his eye Tsukiyama arranging flowers in Hinami’s hair with great exclamations of “Magnifique ! Parfait ! Une fleur parmi les fleurs !”, he can’t help but wonder how deep Tsukiyama’s devotion runs. He thinks about hunting with Tsukiyama, the ghoul meat offered at his feet. He thinks about Tsukiyama’s relentless kagune strengthening his. He thinks…

He thinks he sees something shift in Tsukiyama’s hunger, maybe even more greed, and a confused desire to consume- what?

Ken hasn’t eaten in a while and Tsukiyama’s shirt is showing off the perfect skin of his cleavage and there is something akin to affection in his gaze towards Hinami, which leads Ken to make a probably bad decision by objective standards.

Tsukiyama usually doesn’t hold back when they fight. That’s why Ken chose him, along with the fact that he also has no qualms about not holding back when it comes to beating Tsukiyama in the ground. He manages to do that more and more, lately. It takes less and less effort, lately.

-

Ken grunts, but recovers quickly.

“I’m getting hungry”, he says casually, rubbing a soon-to-be bruise on his cheek.

“Oh?” Tsukiyama reforms and hardens his kagune. “Shall we secretly hunt together again?”

“No, I was thinking…” Ken dodges a lash. “Would you let me eat you?”

The gourmet stops dead in his tracks and stares at him, speechless. Truly, miracles do happen.

“I mean, just snacking a bit, not killing you… You’ve got one of the best regeneration rates out there, right?”

Tsukiyama is shaking, an almost imperceptible tremor in his whole body.

“My dear Ken…” Tsukiyama’s voice sounds weaker too, and falters. It takes him a while to continue. “I would be… honored to give myself whole to your mission. Just say the word and you will be offered my neck on a silver platter.”

Ken squints, staring at where Tsukiyama’s shirt collar hides the aforementioned neck.

“Your neck, you say? Okay. Then take your shirt off.”

A small noise escapes Tsukiyama, who looks taken aback but quickly recovers to grin widely. He withdraws his kagune. There’s dried blood on the side of his head, blackening his hair. His eye finished regenerating, too. Overall, he looks as healthy as ever.

Ken approaches slowly to let him time to unbutton his shirt, and gulps. Unknown ghouls were one thing, but…

Fortunately, there’s a pounding in his head, screaming for flesh and blood. He crosses the last steps at a ravenous pace, grabs Tsukiyama’s right shoulder and yanks his shirt over the other to sink his teeth in the meat of the crook of his neck. The muscle yields juicily and, as he chews, his teeth scrape the shredded skin sticking out. Just near his ear, Tsukiyama’s breath comes out shakily.

A hand snakes its way on the small of Ken’s back, right beside his kagune. He steps back. Tsukiyama is looking at him through hooded eyes.

“I didn’t tell you to do that”, Ken says flatly.

The hand is still there, very warm. Scorchingly so. Steel rises in Ken’s throat.

“Sit down.”

Tsukiyama obeys with the unnerving shadow of a smile. Several voices at once whisper in Ken’s head. _Disgusting_.

“Wipe that off your face”, he orders coldly, and stomps on Tsukiyama’s chest to slam him into the ground. Blood is running down from his shoulder, but the flesh is already knitting itself back together. _That won’t do_.

Tsukiyama’s shirt is splayed open, only covering his arms. What if he opened his chest the same way? Pried his ribcage outwards? Bit into his heart? Ken curls his feet, toenails digging at the gourmet’s breast.

Tsukiyama doesn’t move as Ken towers over him, left eye throbbing, deciding. One kagune tentacle squeezes Tsukiyama’s neck against the floor, blood slipping everywhere.

Ken kneels on each side of Tsukiyama’s thighs. Tsukiyama’s chest stops rising with breath when Ken feels his waist, fingers gauging the meat gathering there, how soft and tender his flanks are, before bending and biting into one. And biting, and biting, and biting, barely taking the time to swallow. His hands hold Tsukiyama’s squirming hips down, but the movement makes his hold shift and his thumb grazes the bulge of Tsukiyama’s crotch.

Ken stops eating and looks up, kagune reflexively choking Tsukiyama, whose eyes roll far back and whose erection only grows harder. His lips are almost blue and mouth something that sounds like a plea. Ken unbuckles his belt before he can stop himself, tugs his tight pants and underwear down to stare curiously at Tsukiyama’s crotch. Unsurprisingly, his pubes are well-trimmed. Ken rakes his nails down Tsukiyama’s stomach.

“You want it?”

Tsukiyama tries to nod and cries out strangled “yes”s.

Ken teeters as he removes the clothes of his lower half, and settles himself on Tsukiyama’s pale thighs, the pants’ cloth bunching up and the belt buckle a cold imprint on Ken’s ass. Tsukiyama tentatively touches his knees.

Blood flows and pumps into Ken like a hundred drums, the ghoul-fueled adrenaline giving a sudden sexual edge to his lust for violence. His erection brushes Tsukiyama’s balls. With one hand, Ken strips a sliver of raw, red flesh off Tsukiyama’s flank, and with the other he goes to wet his fingers in Tsukiyama’s mouth, which pants and bares its teeth. Ken stops.

“Please”, Tsukiyama manages to whimper. “Just a bite.”

“No”, Ken replies coldly.

The hand that was digging in Tsukiyama’s side is now wrapped tightly at the base of the ghoul’s cock. While he punishes him with a painful squeezing ring, Ken wipes the blood dripping off his own chin and uses his own saliva to coat his fingers with, which he then inserts into himself. It’s uncomfortable, he stretches it too fast, nails too long, knuckles writhing against one another; but his ability to think things through took a backseat.

He gathers saliva on his tongue and spits in his hand to stroke Tsukiyama, but not too much. He keeps his grip on it tight as he positions it against his own hole. Once the head has breached it, he lowers himself.

It chafes, it burns, it hurts like hell. Good thing Ken worked on his pain tolerance threshold. He grinds down very slowly and repeats the movement until he’s adjusted to the girth inside of him. The pain and heat are searing; he fills himself up with them.

He was already sweaty because of their fight practice and the effort makes perspiration drench his back, his armpits. The smell becomes uncomfortable and he takes off his shirt and, to drown out Tsukiyama’s ecstatic shouting, he balls it up and shoves it in the gourmet’s mouth. Tsukiyama’s nostrils flare open and his moans, although muffled, manage to get louder.

Ken grits his teeth and rolls his hips; he can feel the cock twitching inside him. Tsukiyama dares lifting a hand to touch Ken’s scrunched up face – or maybe his disheveled hair. Either way, Ken grabs his wrist and sinks his teeth in the long delicate fingers. Tsukiyama’s scream is almost soundless. After having swallowed, Ken’s muscles seem to unknot themselves, numbing the pain and allowing him to move more freely. He keeps his grip on Tsukiyama’s wrist and trails the maimed hand on his own torso, painting a river of blood, until it reaches his untouched cock. Ken pushes once, twice, until Tsukiyama gets the idea and strokes it himself as best as he can. It’s messy, what with half of three fingers missing, but the friction is enough.

The smell of blood is pungent, metallic and warm. The kagune tentacle Ken doesn’t use slithers on its own on Tsukiyama’s chest, rubbing his nipple. Seeing it, Ken gets an idea.

He lets the kagune caress Tsukiyama’s shivering body, down and down until Ken lifts himself up to help it reach under Tsukiyama’s ass. It seems to strike back a bit of sense into Tsukiyama, who looks at Ken and digs his nails in the boy’s knee while his injured hand falters.

“You have no qualms about taking me but I can’t do the same to you?” Ken asks with a sneer.

Tsukiyama’s good hand falls back on his regenerating flank. After a moment of careful breathing, he shakes his head.

The kagune works itself in very slowly, the tip penetrating and then circling so the rest of the tentacle, thicker and thicker, widens Tsukiyama’s hole. Ken can feel it invading Tsukiyama’s insides, viscous enough not to tear him apart. He bottoms out at the same time as the kagune thrusts into Tsukiyama, who lets his own wails and moans suffocate himself. They both are penetrating and being penetrated.

Ken stifles a groan and frowns, clenching tightly around Tsukiyama to deny him release, seeking his own by wrapping his hand with Tsukiyama’s around his cock. Here – a push against the head, a brush against the balls; Ken’s come spills on his stomach and Tsukiyama’s, mingling with the drying dark blood.

Ken stands up – wincing at the emptiness he feels – over Tsukiyama while continuing to fuck him and hold him down with his kagune, and almost as soon as Tsukiyama looks up and locks eyes with Ken, he comes, gripping Ken’s ankle convulsively.  
Ken crouches and takes his dirty balled-up shirt. Tsukiyama says nothing, recovering his breath, tongue lolling. Ken brushes his somehow still silky hair out of his face almost tenderly.

“Your arms and legs were free, and yet you didn’t do anything”, Ken says with a barely-there fondness, a barely-there himself. “You have so much self-control. That’s good.”

Ken kisses Tsukiyama softly and leaves him on the floor, both their hungers satiated.


End file.
